Belief In Physics
by Gambit86
Summary: Claire is forced to reveal a shadowy past, while sucking the Darien and Bobby into her violent past and present problems.
1. Evil In Gucci

Evil In Gucci  
  
Now he has departed from this strange world a little ahead of me. That means nothing. People like us, who believe in physics, know that the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.   
--Albert Einstein (1879-1955)  
***  
She pushed the headband back and returned to the images blinking on the screen. Deftly tapping, her fingers picked their way over the keyboard. Music played faintly next to her but the notes weren't important. Sentences appeared in seconds, each word calculated and secure, anchored in numbers. She hummed the tune and quickly saved.  
Claire leaned back, finally allowing the music to absorb her, and smiled. Drums beat steadily until the hollow swish of the door tried work into the song.   
She quickly opened her eyes and tapped the stop button on her stereo before turning and standing to see who came to visit. She didn't recognize the visitor.  
May I help you? The Keeper said, reforming a cold demeanor unconsciously.   
***  
He tasted the coppery blood on his tongue. He sucked on the wound till the stinging stopped before finally removing it from his lips and returning to work.  
Darien felt the paper cut with annoyance but tried to ignore his injured finger. Just three more pages to go. He stared at the fresh form in front of him and felt certain he'd filled it in an hour ago. The paperwork Eberts managed to find seemed endless, an ever flowing fountain of bureaucracy.   
He smiled at the analogy before being disturbed by his partner's shout.  
I'm done! Hobbes declared, looking up at Darien with sickening pride, Do you hear me Fawkes? I'm finished, fin, finis, finisimo, with this paper crap. How much do you have left?  
his disgruntled friend grumbled, the word dripping with resentment.  
A cinch, you'll be done in fifteen or less, Hobbes started for the door of their office before pausing, You wanna reward ourselves for bubble sheets well done with a coupla beers after?  
Fawkes sighed, still eyeing the sheet he responded, Can't, Claire rounded me up for tests when I'm done.  
Sorry to hear that partner... Bobby paused before continuing, I'll hang around till your done, maybe Claire could use my help with something.  
Darien held in a laugh upon hearing Hobbes' excuse for going down to The Keep.  
I'm sure she'll appreciate it, Fawkes said in less than subtle sarcasm, the letters set in toner threatened to dance in front of his eyes, To hell with this, I'm blowing off the last three forms.  
A good choice, my friend, Hobbes spoke pleased with his friend's decision.  
Darien stood up, cracking his neck and joining Bobby by the door, before adding, Come on Don Juan, let's go see us a Keeper.  
***  
The tall caucasian man only seemed to notice her when she spoke. His dark suit contrasted sharply against the stark metal door, but his glistening mustache and hair seemed to blend right in.  
Of course you can help me, Claire, he said, smiling broadly and speaking her name with familiarity.  
May I see some identification? she spoke with out pause, taking what he knew of her in stride.  
Don't worry, I'm perfectly cleared by your... he chuckled before continuing, Official.' But if it makes you feel better...  
Claire tensed slightly when he reached in side his jacket. He pulled out an identification badge which clearly read: Marcus Dumont; National Security Agency.  
She didn't relax when she saw the NSA affiliation.  
I see, was all she responded.  
he spoke casually, I won't bite. I want to talk to you Claire but first... allow me to get my colleagues.  
***  
Fawkes and Hobbes walked breast in breast down the badly lit hallway, even in step until the door to The Keep was in view. Four men were standing less then relaxed out side the secured metal door separating them from Claire.  
Hobbes stopped, holding his palm up, hoping Fawkes would get the message. Darien looked down at Bobby curiously and halted his step also.  
Tilting his chin towards the men outside The Keep, Fawkes was the first to speak, You mean you don't know those guys?  
And you do? Hobbes said, looking up at his partner.  
No, but I don't know half the guy's who work here. You do.  
They don't.  
Work here?  
Exactly, my friend.  
Think they're new? Let's find out.   
Without glancing back at his partner, Darien continued to stroll whistling down the hall. Hobbes watched as his partner was stopped from coming within five feet of the metal door. The man who stopped Fawkes shook his head and pointed back down the hall, while speaking some authoritative words. Fawkes eased back from the man, then turned his back on him as he walked back up to Hobbes.  
Didn't let you in did they? Bobby said stating the obvious.  
No, how'd you know? Fawkes turned his head back to the men down the hall, Something's definitely up.  
Yeah, now I REALLY want to get in The Keep.  
Think a dollar on a string'll distract Darien suggested playfully.  
Hobbes looked at Darien annoyed but offered, I'll bet you that dollar the Fatman know's what's up.  
I'm not taking that bet.  
Bobby smiled, before joining Fawkes in his fast paced walk back up stairs.  
***  
Mr.Dumont turned on heel and reopened the door, he spoke with the four men outside for a minute before allowing for two of the suited men to enter, the others remained outside, standing guard. The new men seemed less at home in their surroundings than Dumont.   
I suggest you make an appointment Mr.Dumont. This is my laboratory, your interfering with work, The Keeper voiced, regaining power in her territory.  
That's really not nessacary, Claire, Dumont said like her reaction was theatrics, but his deceptively warm tones continued, After all we're just stopping by, but if you'd take a seat...  
He took a step towards her and gestured towards a chair. Claire held her footing and met the gaze of her visitor.  
***  
The pair halted when they saw their rotund employer standing at the top of the stairs. Before they could start with inquiries he spoke.  
I should have expected to see you two, The Official said begrudgingly.  
Yeah well, we don't like to disappoint, Darien shot in.  
So Chief, Hobbes began, Can you tell us why if we go down these stairs we find something that doesn't belong?  
I don't know what your talking about, their superior said quickly.  
Come on boss, Fawkes said rolling his eyes, The men blocking the door to The Keep? Ya know in the sinister looking suits?  
They have clearance, and their business's with The Keeper, not you.  
Well we have to get into The Keep, so I think it is.  
You don't decide that, I let them in. And your not allowed in there till I or they say you are. Understand? The Official raised his eyebrows looking between the two men sternly.   
Fawkes opened his mouth to say more but no sound came out when he saw The Official's face and realized it wouldn't do any good.  
Let's go Fawkes, Hobbes said dejected and nodded his head back down the stair case.  
Sure whatever, Darien's tone matching Bobby's.  
Together the two made their way back down the staircase.  
***  
I'm more comfortable standing, she tried to equal his casual demeanor, I'm not much for pleasantries so what do you need?   
She continued to meet his gaze waiting for the reply.  
Don't be so crass, a note of irritation crept into his neighborly manner, You're correct we've come to ask a favor. I'm sure you know what it is, I'm just paying a friendly visit to affirm our understanding.  
Sorry, but I must be slow, she spoke carefully, What understanding is that?  
Now, now, Claire, he said like a parent coaxing a child, You know...  
Dumont glanced toward the new men and without warning one of them stepped to a counter, swiping his arm across it and sending countless beakers and chemicals shattering to the ground. Half her floor lay in ruins.  
***  
Fawkes' pace quickened when he saw the Official standing in front of the metal door, behind him were two of the original suited men.   
How'd you... but Darien never finished his sentence when a loud crash came from behind the door.  
Hobbes pressed forward to reach the door, when the Official stuck his arm out, physically stopping him.  
I told you, Keeper's business, he stated simply.  
But Claire might be hurt in there, sir!  
Her problem, not our's. They have clearance.  
***  
Dumont didn't flinch as the chemicals began to pool at his feet. Claire struggled for composure.  
his voice congenial as ever in the silence after the crash.  
Get out of my lab, The Keeper said, her tone flat.  
My pleasure, Claire darling.  
Dumont turned carelessly and walked along the edge of the counter toward the door. His feet crunched over the broken glass and he turned to flash another smile before stepping through the open door way.  
***  
Before Hobbes could continue his protest the door slid open.  
A tall unfamiliar man pushed past The Official , practically shoving him out of his way. He didn't bother to glance at the shocked people populating the hall with him as he briskly walked down the hall. He was trailed by the two men who'd been standing guard and two others who'd been outside earlier.  
Both Darien and Bobby watched them leave dumbfounded, then remembered the woman in The Keep and turned their eyes to the room behind the metal door.   
Claire are you okay? Hobbes asked, jumping to The Keeper's side as she kneeled among an array of broken glass and mixing chemicals.  
Claire looked up smiling slightly at Hobbes' concern, Yes, Bobby I'm fine, but thank you.  
Uh Keepy, want me to grab a mop or something? Fawkes asked, shifting his weight so the glass crunched underfoot.  
No I can clean up my self, she responded not looking up, and as if to excentuate her resolve she picked up a piece of glass.  
Really? It's no problem, I could just get a broom, he persisted.  
I'll clean up Darien, I can perform those tests later so you can go, an edge of irritation twinged her speech.  
Still Darien insisted, I help pick up some glass at least, he crouched down already beginning his work.  
Claire waved her hand at him and Hobbes, I can do this. I don't need your help. Just go away...please, her voice was steel.  
Bobby backed away from Claire uncertainly, Um okay, but if you need anything just let us know, Hobbes looked at his partner and pointed at the door, Let's go Fawkes.  
Reluctantly Darien went to his partner's side and again walking together the two left.  
The door slid back into place.   
Claire watched the reds swirling with orange, converging with green with fascination. Unconsciously her hand clenched around the glass in her palm, allowing it to tear into her flesh, adding a new kind of red to the mix. She didn't feel the pain as images mirroring this returned to her:  
_Oh god Frank! He clawed at his arm, desperately trying to get the substance out where it had entered him. But he could never reach it, all his nails found was bits of flesh and blood. The black spider web of veins spread across his face bulging till his skin cracked. Entire parts of his face seemed eaten away where the spider web wasn't. His eyes rolled back in pain and his legs convulsed perversely. He couldn't control his thrashing movements. But worst of all were his screams, the screams wouldn't stop. Even when she covered her ears they persisted into the brain. Until finally the chemical reached his brain and abruptly silence was found. He was dead.   
_She squeezed her eyes shut, and lone tear snaked down to pat the floor, but Claire couldn't tell the difference. As it'd joined the rest of the wet surronding her over the cold grey cement.


	2. Post-It's and Bombers Taste Bad After 6:...

Post-Its and Bombers Taste Bad Past 6:00  
  
He starred at the drink in from of him dubiously.It seemed almost luminous, but it could've just been the bad lighting. An umbrella poked out of the drink in question, shading most of the substance from the flickering overhead glow.  
Darien wondered if it was because the drink could ignite when put in the light. Why did he let Hobbes drag him to these places anyways?  
What? You're not going to have your drink? Bobby said interrupting his thoughts.  
It's glowing Hobbes, Fawkes said, his voice flat.  
No it isn't! It's just flamboyantly colored.  
I would have said toxically, but flamboyantly works too. And I'm NOT drinking that. Why couldn't you just order me a draft?  
Because you need to open you're horizon's, my friend. That's a good drink!  
For Dr.Jekkell maybe... he muttered under his breath before gingerly bringing the glass to his lips.  
Squeezing his eyes shut he took a sip.  
The liquid burned down his throat.   
Darien choked and sputtered, spilling the beverage all over himself.  
What the hell is this!?!   
A Bay City Bomber, Hobbes answered calmly.  
A Bay City Bomber? Oh no, you ordered actually ME A Bay City Bomber.  
Bobby just nodded.  
Do you have any idea how much liquor used in those?  
Yeah, I thought it'd wake you up.  
Mission accomplished, I don't think I'll sleep for a week.  
Good, you'll be on your toes, Hobbes shifted in his chair, Now if you're done complaining about your sensitive pallet, I want to go over and see Claire. Everything was pretty strange with her today.  
That's an understatement... but I know what you mean, Fawkes leaned across the small table toward his partner,Let's stop by my apartment first, NOW I have to change my shirt,  
Hobbes stood up, picking his jacket off the back of his chair.  
It woke you up didn't you? Bobby dropped a bill on the table, Now come on you schmuck.  
Hobbes walked to the open door way of the bar, waiting impatiently for Fawkes to get his own jacket on. The two were on the street in a moment.  
A waiter walked to the table they had taken, collecting the empty glasses. After spotting the single the bill he looked out the door toward the Fawkes and Hobbes's retreating figures, before murmuring,   
***  
She blinked a few times in the absolute dark, trying to clear the ebony from her vision. The charcoal surroundings remained. The utter black was disturbing, especially found within her own home.  
Claire stood in her doorway, trying to decide if she should enter the house. The streetlight in front had burnt out, thus leaving her to drown in sable. Currently her right hand rested in the inside of her door frame, anchoring her to the spot. Out side at least she had the moon, but upon entry to the rest of her life hung like an empty hole. Stepping through would mean letting go of control.  
She sucked in her breath.  
Claire released her hand from the door frame and took a step forward.  
_Crunch.  
_She immediately regretted it. Allowing her foot to hover just above the spot where the sound had come from, Claire precariously leaned back. Her hand slid over the wall behind her, searching for a switch. At last that twig of plastic was found, and she flicked it. The comforting fluorescent glow of her hall light hummed on. The soft yellow light fell across the gutted stereo her foot hovered so carefully over.  
Relieved that the stereo was all it was, she released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Leaning against the wall, Claire regained her footing, before kneeling down the examine the wreck.   
Her stereo lay in shambles, who ever had done this had done well. The piece of electronics was beyond repair, it's pieces scattered and shattered, across the floor. As she mourned the loss of her music equipment, someone very important came to mind.  
Claire stood suddenly and stepped on to the nearby stair case. She didn't pause for other debris as she bounded up to her bed room.   
she shouted tensely.  
A small yip resounded from under the bed.   
Claire dropped her head in relief, then kneeling, peeked under the bunk. She was greeted by a wet nose pressed against her own. She reached under and pulled out the familiar ball of fur, smiling when he licked her in the face.   
Pavlov, honey, are you all right? her voice when an octave higher.  
  
Good then, mummy was worried about you.  
He licked her nose.  
Yip! Yip!  
She pressed the furry face against her cheek, then set the small dog down.  
Come on Pavlov, let's go see what they got into besides the stereo.  
Claire walked back down the stairs, dog tapping next to her all the way.   
The scene in her living room was a massacre of furniture.   
Cushions lay up turned and crooked, sliced open so their innards spilled out. Her desk drawers were wide open to the world, and papers were crumbled or torn surrounding them. Bits of broken vases crunched under her feet. Not a remnant remained of the the careful order she usually kept in her house. Everything was open, and what couldn't be opened was beaten.   
They'd been searching for something, quite desperately in observance of the evident destruction. Claire knew exactly what had been the object of their havoc too.  
She examined the room for any hint of the lens of a hidden surveillance camera, finding nothing she took a step forward. Carefully picking her way over bits of broken glass, she walked to the spot where it was hidden.   
Claire pulled out the second drawer of the desk entirely, and set it on the paper strewn wooden surface. She was about to proceed in her investigative work when a dark red post-it note caught her attention. It was placed on top of the rest of the papers, and the hand-writing on it was not her own. She picked the small note up with her fingertips, reading the message slowly.  


_An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.   
You destroyed our research,   
so we'll destroy your's...   
Unfortunately your's can scream._   


It took a moment for the word's impact to register, but when it did she forgot the drawer entirely.  
Darien... oh god, they're going after Darien.  
She allowed the words to hang in the air for a moment before hastily leaving the room and making for the phone.  
***  
Darien stepped out of the hallway into his shadowy apartment. Hobbes waited in the van on the street below.   
Bumping into things, and saying more then one colorful word he at last found the light switch. He flicked it on.   
Fawkes felt like he had triggered a bomb.   
A hand pulled him back sharply, and off his feet. Darien only had time to shout Hobbes' name before a hand muffled his mouth, and an arm wrapped tightly around his throat.  
  
Hobbes starred up at the windows of his friend's apartment waiting for the light to come on. Darien's silhouette as last appeared, but only briefly, as it seemed pulled away from the window and a silhouette of a larger, burlier man filled the window. Hobbes didn't even hear Fawkes call his name as he ran out of the van, and closer to the apartment.   
Hammering the door open Robert Hobbes made his entrance.   
Darien struggled against the large man holding him. His right arm twisted under him now, he tried with little success to elbow his captor in the stomach. The giant spotted Hobbes, just as he was pulling out his gun.  
Try anything, I snap his neck, The immense man said, lifting Darien higher with his arm and tighting the grip.  
Hobbes held his gun steady, waiting for the chance to fire.  
Fawkes had stopped struggling against the man and large black spots were beginning to appear in front of his eyes, only his toes touched the floor.   
Trying to keep thinking clearly, he realized the man had just given him the leverage he needed.   
Bobby watched as Darien stomped hard on the foot of his holder. Shocked, the large man loosened his grip enough for Fawkes to pull away, giving Hobbes the space to fire.  
Bobby pulled the trigger.  
A bullet embedded itself in the large man's arm, making him loose his grip entirely and Darien fell to the floor with a heavy thud. On his knees and gasping for breath, Darien looked up at Hobbes, Thanks man.  
No problem, he paused a moment, than looked toward the large man now clutching his arm onthe floor, jerking his thumb, he asked, You know this guy?  
Never seen him before. What should we do with the mook?  
Call an Agency clean-up crew, Hobbes said as he tossed Fawkes his phone, Use that, if this guy got in here there could be a tap on yours.  
He sighed, We were just having fun too.  
Back on his feet, Darien raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, instead he said, Think he has anything to do with Claire?  
I wouldn't doubt it.  
Bobby pulled handcuffs from his coat pocket and stepped to struggling giant, in the meantime Darien realized the light was blinking on his answering machine.   
Pressing the play button, he was greeted by The Keeper's voice.  
_  
Darien, it's me, Claire. It's urgent you return my call. We really need meet to discuss somethings. I don't want to talk about them over the phone. I believe you may be in danger, please be careful. Bye for now and stay safe.  
_  
Her voice began to waver at the end of the message. It reminded him of how she'd spoken when describing the man who'd offered her a ride as a girl. Insecure, at a loss of control, but most of all.... Scared.  
Fawkes listened to the silence following the end of the message and hoped to god Claire wasn't taking rides from strangers.


	3. Tacos In A Heavy Sauce of Vendetta

Tacos In A Heavy Sauce of Vendetta  
  
The tables were sparse populated and those who occupied them kept to themselves, tiny one man islands scattered over the floor in the dim lit restaurant. No one paid attention as another person joined the lonely mix and sat in an empty booth. The pattern was only changed, as ten minutes later a couple stepped in through the south entrance. They glanced around before stepping to sit in the booth with the stranger. Their quiet talk barely lilted over a mellow latin guitar.  
Before any one could speak, he began.  
I want to know what the hell is going on and I want to know now, Darien's voice whispered firmly.  
It's complicated, just listen to what I have to say. Please don't ask any more than that, her voice was quiet and, and, allowing the shadows of her hat to peel away, Claire met Darien's eyes with her own.  
Fine Claire, Hobbes leaned towards her from his place at Darien's right, But you can't rely on us not asking.  
She nodded and picked a tortilla chip up from the bowl. Sucking the salt off the corner she closed her eyes to organize her thoughts.   
Darien and Hobbes both leaned back as they anticipated her response.  
Finally she broke off an edge of the chip and began, It was just after I'd graduated Cal Tech with my first doctorate. I worked on a project with that... that man you saw today.  
The one who trashed your lab? Darien asked, placing a hand on the table.  
That's not important. What I came here to tell you is that now he might be coming after you...  
Already did, Hobbes interrupted her.  
Claire looked up, her eyes moving from Hobbes to Darien, What do you mean?!  
Darien tilted his chin to reveal the newly forming bruises ringing his neck. They ran in long streaks forming the large hands that had grabbed him.  
She let out a breath and moved out to touch her only patient before remembering the need for inconspicuocity.  
When did this happen? her voice held it's usual softness, but there was a strange edge.  
After I got home, before I got your message. So Keep, I don't think that...  
No they'll try again, she cut him off,   
Reaching into her coat she pulled out a pen and scribbled something on a napkin.  
As she pushed it across the table, Darien and Hobbes leaned over to read her quick writing.  


Samuel Morgenstein   
18 Blue Paris...  


  
Hobbes didn't even finish reading, as he reached out to catch Claire's arm before she slid out of the booth.  
You're not going anywhere. I want more than an address, because I know Fawkes, won't leave. What's this project? And who was that guy that he can just trash your place and walk out with a word from the   
Claire said looking at him patiently and meeting his determined gaze equally. The project was with the NSA; you understand what that means, Darien might not, but you know you're way around. NSA means a lot more than just a nameless Agency half the bureaucrats won't acknowledge. San Francisco is nice this time of year and Sam has a pool.  
She tugged out of his grip and started to weave between tables, but the men she'd been sitting with wouldn't let it be.  
Ohh no you don't, Darien said side stepping into her path, and as Claire turned around to meet Bobby's stiff form, Stay put Keepie.  
The young woman looked angrily back and forth between her captors before speaking with surprising venom, Dammit, just leave well enough alone! I can handle this and I don't need two big strong men to protect me. You're nothing but tools to them, leverage over me! If you really want what's best for me you'll both leave. The Official can tell you when to come back.  
Pushing her shoulder into Darien's chest she pressed past him and to the door.   
Darien remained where he was, as his partner ran past him to the street outside.   
Tell us something, Claire! Anything! Hobbes called futilely at her retreating figure down the sidewalk. He'd turned to go back inside when he heard something. Returning to her direction, he saw her start to walk back towards him, and when within in ear shot enough to whisper she said, Marana... That's all I can tell you.   
She turned away form him once more, and as she walked nodded her head for him to follow. He walked a few feet behind and listened to what she had to say, If you find out what it means you endanger both Darien and yourself. Please, don't tell him until you know. This is bigger then just Darien or yourself, too many lives are at risk for carelessness, Bobby.  
She quieted and ran across the street to her black SUV, appearing for a moment beneath the street light.   
Hobbes watched as she climbed in, for a moment, only an unnoticeable second, her head turned and blue eyes met brown. In that moment Bobby was taken aback by what he saw... fear. He knew she didn't want to go, as her car drove away to blend with the night, but he couldn't do anything to help it.  
Claire was gone and Darien ran up to meet him on the side walk.  
Well, since you two left I _had_ to pay for the drinks, he said swaying slightly to get in step with his partner, I'm not leaving, that's for sure. I don't know what the hell it is Keeps gotten mixed up in but we can handle right Hobbes?   
Hobbes didn't answer, as he distractedly realized Fawkes had asked him a question.  
Right Hobbes?  
Uh, yeah sure, his voice rose, Bobby Hobbes ain't leaving for no one.  
He looked up and smiled slightly at his partner.  
Darien laughed and looked up at the night sky before breathing in deeply, Ahh, that's fresh. Would you just look at those stars?  
He slung an arm around Bobby's shoulder, but Hobbes didn't look up, rather his eyes kept tracing the cracks, and he could help but see one word... Marana.  
***  
All evening the memories had threatened to break her down. Everything felt like a nagging reminder of how she'd failed, of what she'd allowed to happen, but most of all, what she couldn't let happen. A street light flickered above the road, and once again her mind slipped beneath her.  
_Everyone was wearing the same white, drab, lab coats, but somehow he managed to make even that look exciting. Claire felt a blush rising in as she watched him from across the lab. She shouldn't do this, there was Kevin to think of, then again, he hadn't called her since graduation.   
She glanced down at her notes, and realized it was time to record data again. Glancing the chemicals in the small beaker, she squinted to see the measurement. Then, scratching down a ratio, her eyes found themselves to the table of the man across the room again. He wasn't there.  
Puzzled, her eyes surveyed the sterilized room. She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Head whipping around, she smiled when she saw who is was.  
Sorry, did I scare you? he asked, and removed his hand from her shoulder.  
She laughed and smiled No, I just wasn't expecting you, Frank.  
He looked at her notes, then up at her, his natural curiosity kicking in, So what're you working on over here?  
She sighed, Probably same thing you are. When I applied for the job I thought I'd get some excitement with the prestige. Guess not.  
_She shook her head, rubbing the thoughts away as her fingers massaged her temples. She had to do something, but it was going to be a long night.  
***_  
_From his seat in the deep blue sedan he watched the SUV pull away. He didn't bother moving as it drove up the road, instead keeping a sedentary role at the sidewalk. Somebody was already on it.   
He looked back at the walk across the street to realize the man he'd been looking had finally arrived on the scene. Keeping his head bent towards the magazine, he only watched out of the corner of his eyes as the man and his companion climbed beaten van.  
Together, eh?   
This was going to make his job _so_ much easier.   
Picking the phone up from the seat beside him, he dialed work. For God and country as they always say. 


End file.
